


Betwixt and Between

by jillyfae



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, F/M, Ficlet Collection, Fluff, Gen, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Prequel, Romance, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-21
Updated: 2013-07-26
Packaged: 2017-12-21 10:19:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 6,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/899161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jillyfae/pseuds/jillyfae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Small scenes and prompt-fics for Mass Effect <i>aka I didn't know what else to do with this stuff</i>.  Mostly romantic/fluff scenes, a few other things mixed in.  I will put a description of each chapter in the title, so they may be more easily browsed on the <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/899161/navigate">chapter index page</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 3 sentences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Emby](http://spiritofemby.tumblr.com) gave me several prompts for a three sentence meme on tumblr ... I collected them all into this one chapter.
> 
> And then added a couple from other people too. <3

> _"Ashley/F!Shepard.  For Defira, ‘cause she loves this pairing! :_ 3"

A Williams never expected to survive, to last, to be valued; a Williams hoped her death would serve a purpose, and knew to want for more was to want for too much. 

A Shepard refused to admit the things a Williams knew, and saved her instead, kept her by her side, valued her more than breath or heartbeat, or even her favorite gun.

A Shepard and a Williams together were unstoppable.

* * *

> _"OHOHOHO. OKAY. F!Shepard/Kal’Reegar, Lick Me. I will not specify, you get to pick that one. :D (you opened the floodgates now. <33)"_

She saw the line in his suit, the drop of blood swelling up and staining the fabric,  _a sharp cut, but tiny,_  reached out to grab his arm, to pull his hand close … and only realized when he went suddenly painfully still that she’d been about to lick it clean, as if he was her partner, her family, someone close enough to share skin privileges.

_As if the danger for him, a quarian, wasn’t that tiny break in the seal of his suit to begin with, never mind the cut in his skin, and never considering the germs in my damn mouth …_

Instead she stretched her wrist, opening up the external slot in her medi-gel dispenser, and carefully applied some to his cut, careful not to let her skin or her suit touch the cut, trying not to tense with the sudden recognition of how much Tali’s marine had come to mean to her.

* * *

> _"F!Shepard/Ashley - Kiss Me, for Kirsty. :D"_

"Is that an order, marine?"

"Never," Ashley whispered, leaning closer and ever closer, until all Yesmin could see was the curve of her cheek, the glint in the corner of her eye, the line of her nose and the blush of her lips, Yesmin’s whole world narrowed to this one side of Ashley’s face, “and always."

It was worth every shadow in her life, to have made it through to this one warm moment, blue-lit and safe, and the feel Ashley’s lips on hers.

* * *

Oh look, a bonus prompt from [twistedsinews](http://twistedsinews.tumblr.com/):

> _"Ashley: Drill; Kaidan: Mnemonic Rehearsal; Both: SMOOCHING TIME! (*cough* Any, or?)"_

There were things it was hard to do on a ship: no shooting range, no shielded bay for biotic practice.  No privacy.

They made up for lost time on all three counts, every time they found the space, and time, and land.

* * *

> [yarnandteaisallineed](http://yarnandteaisallineed.tumblr.com/) asked you: _"Ooh! I’d love to see something where both Ash and Kaidan survived and went on to become besties."_

The entire ship was silent as they watched Virmire disappear beneath them, the flash of the explosion too bright to bear, even from orbit.  They couldn’t possibly go on, now, with Shepard gone, final words still echoing in their heads:  _it’s my job, I’ve got it, keep going, you’re my crew, you can do it._   

Alenko wasn’t sure he could, not really, not an L2 without a Spectre to back him up, all by himself - and then he felt Williams beside him, the brush of her shoulder as she leaned in closer, and realized he wasn’t alone.


	2. "ulp", Tali/M!Shepard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by [this](http://cheesiestart.tumblr.com/post/23510172691/prompt-requests) really splendid ridiculously delightful silly M!Shepard picture by [cheesiestart](http://cheesiestart.tumblr.com). I’m not sure this Tali/M!Shep drabble does it justice, but it was what I managed to come up with for her…  
> 

Shepard woke up slowly, his legs heavy against the sheet beneath him, his shoulders tight. He started to try and stretch them out, and heard the clink of metal, felt the motions of his arms impeded by  _cuffs_?

Immediately awake, his arms pulling steadily against his restraints, he slitted his eyes to take stock of the situation.

And then he blinked.

“Good morning, Shepard.”

Normally, Tali’s distinctive voice greeting him as he woke up was a  _good_ sign. Being in a proper bed instead of his rack on the  _Normandy_ ought to have been pleasant as well. Smooth sheets, an awful lot of pillows,  _most of the knocked on the floor,_ what felt like actual old-fashioned wood behind his back… he kicked one heel against the mattress beneath him, impressed by the weight, the thickness that still gave beneath him, slow and soft. It was a really nice bed.

The room they were in was equally nice, thick neutral colored carpeting, sunlight streaking through the air, split apart by slightly tinted multi-paned windows along one wall; letting in light but making sure no one could clearly see either in or out, even without distortion shields or baffles.

And Tali. Perched on a stool next to a dresser, head tilted in what usually meant a smile.

“Um,” he managed. He could tell from the flat sound of his grunt that the room they were in was even sound-proofed.  _Very fancy._

Not that that was really a surprise. Ought to be fancy, considering how much it cost. It was nice to know he was still in the proper hotel room, but waking up restrained was a bit disconcerting. At best.

“Did you want some coffee?” Tali hopped gracefully down from her stool, leaning towards him as she spoke. “I know it’s usually the first thing you look for, in the morning.”

Shepard just glared, and shifted his arms again, letting the chime of metal against metal and metal against wood do his speaking for him.

“Oh, you’re curious about why you’re chained to the bed?”

He was pretty sure she was laughing at him. That was not usually this annoying.

“Well…” Tali leaned a hip against the edge of the mattress. Which provided a rather unfairly lush view of the line of her legs up her side and… maybe being chained to the bed wasn’t such a bad thing. “Chakwas insisted on you actually getting some rest, for once. And every other time you’ve attempted a day of shoreleave to get away from things, you piss off some mercs, or run into some refugee family and  _it’ll just take an hour to help them, right?_ ”

Shepard could resist grinning when her voice dropped in a very poor imitation of his own rougher voice. “And then there are guns and explosions and no rest at all. And however much I do enjoy helping you blow things up, I thought maybe we should try something different this time.”

“So I’m handcuffed to prevent me getting into trouble?”

“You’re handcuffed to prevent you  _going outside_  and getting into trouble.” Tali eased her way up on the bed by his feet, leaning forward as her voice slid down into a gentle murmur. “Do you know why I picked this particular hotel?”

“No?”

“They have a very sophisticated sonic cleaning system and each room is completely self-contained, with individual water and air filtration and doors that also function as airlocks.” Shepard swallowed as she shifted, one hand reaching slowly for the seam that sealed her gloves into the sleeves of her suit. “It’s designed for paranoid political types afraid of assassination or reporters, but…” She’d finished with the seam, and was very carefully tugging at the tips of her fingers to start sliding the glove off her hand. “It also functions as a clean room, for our purposes.”

“And what, precisely, are our purposes?”

“We wouldn’t want to let those handcuffs go to waste, now would we?”


	3. "Enough", Garrus/F!Shepard (fluff)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For [Sia](http://siawrites.tumblr.com). One can assume this is probably some version of her Meghan Shepard. ;)

"Shepard."

"Vakarian." 

Shepard was lying backwards on her bed, booted feet up against the wall, glaring at the stupid-assed-skylight. _Who puts a skylight above a bed in a spaceship? Even people who aren't me_ (who didn't die) _can't like the idea of getting spaced right as they're going to sleep._

"We could get that covered up next time we're in port, you know."

Garrus suggested that every time she got especially frustrated by the damn thing.

"Or I could stop obsessing over lousy design decisions." Shepard rolled over, propping her head on her hands as she stared back at her favorite turian, _favorite everything,_ still standing at the top of the steps by her desks. "What's up?"

"Nothing." He was leaning against the column by the stairs, and she was pretty sure if she was human she'd see his teeth glinting with a smirk. Turian smirks were all about the angle of a mandible, the tilt of a head. 

_Kinda sexy, when he does it._ "Why do I not believe you?"

"I have no idea." He spread his hands wide, a human gesture of innocence that made her snicker. 

"You're about as convincing as Joker claiming he doesn't watch porn when he's on duty."

"Always about the porn." Garrus sighed heavily. "You are a very perverse woman, Shepard."

"Part of my charm."

"That it is." His voice had dropped, that extra _twang_ making her stomach clench. "That it is."

He stalked slowly down the stairs, leaning down to murmur against her ear.

"Part of my charm too, don't you think?"

"Definitely." She grinned at him, rolling over onto her back again, her hands slowly unbuttoning her blouse, her feet shifting so she could toe off her boots.

"Shh," he shook his head slightly, that delightful smirk causing his mandible to flare a little more. "You should keep your boots on."


	4. "Pillow Talk" F!Shenko, fluff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, this was written a very long time ago, (I'm afraid to read it, what if it's dreadful?) but in the interests of completion and actually archiving all my crap like I'm supposed to so I can't pretend it never happened...
> 
> ...I originally wrote this as part of [Lost for Words](http://faejilly.tumblr.com/tagged/lost%20for%20words/chrono), but it didn't quite fit the flow, so it became this little side scene that I didn't have the heart to chuck away into the ether never to be seen again.

Kaidan drifts happily, only half awake, admiring the contrast between Shepard's dark-skinned arm and his paler one as they lay next to each other across his chest, his other arm absentmindedly stroking her back. If it wasn't for her hair starting to tickle his nose, he's pretty sure he'd never want to move again. He breathes out experimentally, trying to get the loose strands to fall back towards her head where it rests on his shoulder, but all he manages is to get a few in his mouth.

Apparently alerted by the odd sounds he makes as he tries to spit them out without bothering to move, Cara shifts around until she can rest her chin on his chest, cushioned on her hands, looking up at him with an amused tilt to her mouth. "Bet you miss the long hair too, don't you? It used to stay all nicely tied back, unlike this crazy stuff, getting all over the place all the time."

"I don't know," Kaidan muses quietly, admiring the way her messy hair outlines her face, tap ering out by her chin. "I rather like it. It's adorable." He lifts his head, giving her a quick peck on the tip of her nose before retreating back to his pillow with a grin.

She lifts her head just enough to slide an arm free and smack him lightly in the shoulder. "It is not! I am big, bad, Shepard, scourge of pirates and Reapers and defender of the civilized galaxy… Spectre's are scary, not adorable!"

As he stares into her face, smiling back at him, lit up with mock defiance, his heart suddenly jumps up into his throat, almost strangling his voice as he manages only a rough whisper. "I adore you."

Her eyes darken as her smile fades, replaced by something more intense as she stares back at him, her voice just as husky as she answers. "That's all right, then."

His fingers tangle in the hair on each side of her head, pull, insisting that her mouth rise to meet his. Tongues and lips savor each other as he rolls, pushing her down into the mattress with the weight of his body above hers. _Mine_ , is the last thing he thinks, _as I'm her's._


	5. "Silence" F!Shenko

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ages and eons ago, a group on the BSN prompted something to inspire some creativity post-ME2 before we knew anything about ME3... wherein Shepard and Alenko would be reunited, but, for whatever reason you could come up with, dialogue was not allowed.
> 
> /I am dialogue whore, OH NOES I CAN'T DO THAT?
> 
> So of course I tried. :)

Shepard couldn't remember where she was. Or when, or why, or what she was supposed to be doing. Her back ached, and her throat was sore, and her arms felt oddly heavy. She'd blink, and the light would change, angle and color. Sometimes all she could see was a grey ceiling, other times faces she knew would appear in her view, stare silently or chatter nervously, then disappear again. Usually her crew. Those that were still alive. Jack, Thane, Miranda, Tali, Garrus, even Grunt once. Mordin. Kasumi had said good-bye, she thought, but she might have imagined that one. Joker appeared a few times, and she almost didn't recognize him without his hat. Chakwas came back over and over again, her expression serious but calm, her warm smile soothing away the hovering confusion before the lights faded away again.

And then she opened her eyes again and saw Lieutenant, no Commander, Alenko. Kaidan, his eyes blood-shot, his hair mussed. She closed her eyes, trying to stop the t ears she felt building. He wasn't really here. It had to be an hallucination. Her mind was playing particularly nasty tricks on her.

Next time she opened her eyes, he was still there. That never happened. Her blinks were heavy, took forever, and the faces always moved. Why hadn't his face changed?

He caught her gaze, and smiled slightly. She felt an odd pressure against her fingers and forced her eyes to move away from his shadowed gaze, slowly following the line of his shoulder and arm down to where his fingers were wrapped around someone else's hand, the stranger's skin cracked and ashy. She felt the pressure again, and realized with surprise that it was her hand he was holding. She tried to squeeze back, and was rewarded with the deepening half-smile she never thought she'd see again. She tried to smile back, but her eyelids dropped in another blink.

It was dark this time, and she couldn't see his face. But she could still feel something interlaced throu gh her fingers, and when she forced her head to move, she saw his head pillowed on the side of her bed, next to their hands. She felt the smile grow across her face, and she shifted slightly between her sheets. Maybe trying to stay awake for a little while for once wasn't such a bad idea.


	6. "Charming" M!Shepard/Chawkwas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I love au memes. <3 [Chakwas](http://chakwas.tumblr.com/) requested Shepard/Chakwas #6, which was 'secretly a virgin'. 
> 
> I tend to have trouble with the concept of marines or doctors being virginal, even though I'm sure it happens, just because jobs that are that difficult tend to inspire people who, well, for lack of better terminology, 'play hard'. Obviously, this is a horrible generalization on my part, but sometimes it's hard to work around one's own biases.
> 
> I tried, though.

"Do you ever regret this life, Doc?" Shepard sighed, staring up at the cool blue lights along the medbay ceiling. He was _tired._ Not sleepy, not worn out from too much work, just tired down to his soul. _I need a break. That doesn't require being dead._

"Not really the settling down type, Commander. Never really thought you were either?" Shepard lifted his head off his hands long enough to see Chakwas' face, the question in her eyes softening her smile. "You must have left a string of broken hearts across the galaxy the way you go bounding about."

Shepard snorted, shaking his head before lying back down. "No one wants to bring the scary marine home for dinner, Doc. I make a good shore leave fling. Exciting. Not much more than that."

Chakwas patted him on the shoulder as they waited for her diagnostic to finish running. "You sell yourself too short, Shepard. I'm sure there's any number of pretty young things w ho would love to get to know you better."

"Sure you broke a few hearts yourself, over the years."

"Lost my share of friends, drifting apart, switching posts." It was her turn to sigh softly. "Never more than that."

"What, you've never been in love?"

"Hmm." Her hum was soft, drawing out the quiet in the bay, just the two of them, waiting. _Companionable, like._ Not like she was avoiding the question. _Just considering the best way to answer?_ "If you're wondering about some grand passion I abandoned in my youth, I'll have to disappoint you. Never been the passionate type. But love? I've loved and lost, just like most people. Seldom the way they wanted me to, however."

"What do you mean?" Shepard sat up completely this time, feeling a scowl grow between his brows. He had a feeling he was missing something.

"Most people, when they're close to someone, crave physical contact." Chakwas reached over to the computer, tapped something across the display before sitting down and turning to face Shepard directly. "Holding hands, hugs, embraces. Kissing. Sex."

"And you... don't?"

"Never have. Don't suppose I will, at this late date, either."

"You mean you've never," Shepard caught himself before he made a singularly obscene gesture with his hands, settling for a shrug instead. "With anyone?"

"Are you trying to ask if I'm a virgin, Commander?" Her smile widened as he shifted uncomfortably. _That seems an oddly invasive sort of question, all of a sudden._ "I suppose I am. I knew it wasn't something I wanted, and I wasn't willing to pretend just to hold onto someone's affections. Some people accept that. Some not so much."

"I thought you and Adams, though?"

"Just friends. Practically family, I'd say. It's good to have friends, isn't it?"

"Yeah." A soft chime from Chakwas' desk interrupted them, and she rose t o take a look at her results.

"You're all clear, Commander. As healthy as I think is possible, under the circumstances. Let me know if you have any more trouble sleeping, though. Your body needs rest, even if your mind isn't inclined to grant it."

"Of course." Shepard stood up, pausing before he stepped towards the door. "Would you care to join me for dinner sometime, Doc?"

One brow lifted, an eloquent if silent question.

"No, I don't think you're some challenge for the infamous Shepard charm." Shepard snorted. "It's good to have someone to talk to though, right?"

"That it is."

"Tomorrow then? The Loft, twenty-hundred-hours?"

"I'll see you then." There was a pleasant quirk to her smile, and he felt himself smiling back before he left. He almost started to whistle as the door slid shut behind him. _Have to make sure I've got some brandy in stock._


	7. "Care", young Garrus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, I participated in [ironfic](http://ironfic.tumblr.com/), which required me to write something to suit a provided theme and character in a very short amount of time. (Garrus/Resilience) I only sort of hit the theme, (or the style I was going for), but it was amazingly entertaining, and here is the result. Completely unedited, despite the pain it causes me. (SO MANY THINGS I WOULD DO IF IT WASN'T CHEATING ... *flails a little*)
> 
> Apologies if Turian life seems a bit too much like human life... it was a conscious decision, as BioWare made what little we got of alien culture in game so much like what we know, but I completely understand if it rather throws a reader out of the fic. ;)

Mother was coughing. It was deep in her chest. Too deep. It made his mandibles twitch in sympathy every time he heard it. 

_Follow the chain of command._ Father’s voice rumbled in his memory.

But Father was gone.

Again.

No word. No messages.

When she wasn’t working, Mother was worried, her fingers too tight, wrapped around each other when she thought he wasn’t looking.

Solana would tell him to call Grandmother.

Solana was taking a nap.

_Little ones needed their sleep._

Mother had sent them both to their rooms for ‘quiet time’.

But he wasn’t little.

He didn’t need to sleep. He was older. Stronger.

He had to help. 

He had to step up.

Be responsible.

He’d help Mother, all on his own.

But how?

He shoved a stool into the pantry, climbed on top of it to look at the top shelf. The shelf with the first-aid kit, the medicine. All the things they wouldn’t let him use by himself.

But he was big. He knew they weren’t toys. He remembered which one Mother took when she couldn’t sleep, when the cough got really bad.

He couldn’t find it.

He tried the next shelf down.

It wasn’t there either.

Was that why she was so tired? She was out of her medicine?

He’d go get her some more then.

He knew the way to the store. He walked there with Mother every Firstday, when she was doing the shopping for the week.

She hadn’t gone shopping this week. Spread her fingers, tried to smile, told him they didn’t need anything, and _would he like to play with the new block set his father had sent?_

Solana had fallen for it, laughing and knocking her tower down, over and over.

He’d seen Mother talking to the man at the store the week before though.

It wasn’t from Father.

She’d had it delivered to distract them.

She wasn’t feeling well, and she hadn’t gone to the store.

He should’ve figured it out sooner. 

He’d do better, now.

He was careful, opening the front door.

Didn’t want her to hear him. 

She’d stop him.

She was so worried about them she wasn’t taking care of herself. So he’d take care of them, until Father got back.

He knew where they hid the emergency credits.

You’d think grown-ups would be better at hiding money, but no, there it was, behind the vegetable drawer in the cooler.

He wasn’t sure how much her medicine cost, so he took it all.

He remembered to grab his coat before he left. 

Should always be prepared. Just in case. It might rain.

It was red. He hated red. But Father had picked it out for him before he left, so he wore it anyways.

He was spotted by their next door neighbor before he made it all the way down the driveway. He picked up the balls against the fence, pretending that was why he’d come outside, and went back in again.

He waited by the door, but the neighbor didn’t go back inside.

He snuck out the back, instead, climbing the fence and dropping to his feet in the dirt.

The manager of the complex saw him when he got past their block though.

He checked the mailbox and turned around again. 

He got back inside the house and tried not to stomp his feet in frustration. 

Mother would hear that.

He took his coat off, turned it inside out and put it back on again.

Found one of Father’s old hoods in the closet.

Snuck out again, stayed behind the buildings, avoiding the regular walkway.

Made it all the way to the main road this time.

But he wasn’t supposed to cross it by himself.

There was a bridge further down, but it was out of his way. Could he afford the time?

Better than getting stuck in traffic.

He ducked his head, pulling the hood further forward so no one could see his face.

It did start to rain, and he grinned, mandibles flaring against the fabric of the hood. 

_Always have a back-up plan._

The echo of Father’s voice almost sounded approving, that time.

No one bothered him now, everyone fleeing back inside to avoid the weather.

The lady working at the store gave him a hard look, mandibles tight, but he was very polite, described Mother’s box, explained she had a cough. The lady still looked suspicious, but she got it down for him, rang it up.

He managed to pull out a credit-chit without spilling too many in his pocket. 

She grunted, wrapped up his change in the bag with the medicine, and followed him all the way out the door, scowling as he went back down the street.

Back across the bridge, back down the street.

It would ruin everything if he got caught again so close to home.

He cut over before he got back to the complex, trying not to slip in the mud between the fences as he cut back between the yards.

No one was ever back here, besides the maintenance crews. He liked to keep an eye on them though, see which panels accessed which systems, which hatches were used for transporting materials, which ones for trash, which ones for people.

He made it all the way back to his yard, recognizing the notch at the top of his fence where he perched when he was watching the workers.

And only then realized there was no way back UP from this side. No handy tree, like there was in the yard, the path between the fences always kept clear in case they needed to get a cart or a trolley through.

It took five tries to find hand-holds, and he was absolutely covered in mud from sliding back down after each failed attempt, but finally he managed to brace himself around the corner and get all the way back up.

He fell in a puddle when he slid down the fence on the other side, water leaking down between his hood and his coat, mud sliding against his neck.

He stood up, _I am not crying, big brothers don’t cry_ , and jumped a few extra times in the puddle, letting water splash everywhere, cover his face and his hands and his pants and his coat.

He snuck back in through the back door, careful to strip off everything muddy and throw it in the ‘cycler for cleaning. He tiptoed carefully back through the house in nothing but his shirt, the bag carefully clutched in his hands.

He’d forgotten to put the stool away.

He felt an instant of panic, joints locking up when he saw it, wondering if anyone else had seen it, but the house was still quiet. 

He decided to be glad that it was still in the pantry, right where he needed it. He climbed back up, slid the box back behind the first-aid kit.

Put the credits back behind the vegetables.

Went back to get the stool again, put it away this time.

Ran back to his room, found new clothes, stuffed the now empty bag under his mattress.

His hands were a mess, mud in between the joints. He’d broken one of his talons completely on the fence, another one cracked almost all the way to the quick. 

Mother would notice that.

Mother always noticed things like that.

He needed an excuse.

A reason.

_A lie._

Father’s voice was not approving that time. 

Good turians didn’t lie.

Good turians don’t break the rules.

_A good turian would’ve asked Mother what to do._

_Or called Grandmother._

_Solana’s a good turian._

Garrus sighed.

He pulled the bag back out from under his mattress.

Walked slowly downstairs, rescued his boots and coat and pants and socks out of the ‘cycler. Hung them up on the drying rack, in plain view, right next to the back door.

Put the bag in the bin.

Went and moved the stool again, got the box of medicine, and sighed again.

He had to swallow three times before he could convince his legs to move, to take him to the door of Mother’s study.

He raised one hand and knocked, trying not to wince when he bumped his broken talon.

He heard Mother moving behind the door, and then it opened, her eyes and mandibles tight as she stared down at him.

“Garrus? You’re five minutes early, you know.” She stopped, eyes widening slightly as she looked at the box. As she looked at the state of the hands holding the box.

She sighed, that tight almost whistle to her breath that he _hated_. It only happened when she was worried. Or disappointed.

She stepped back into her study, gesturing for him to come inside.

“Sit.” 

He sat.

“Explain.”

He tried.

Really, he tried, but her eyes and her hands and her mandibles just got tighter and he trailed off, miserable, staring down at the box still in his lap.

She sighed again.

There wasn’t a whistle this time.

He lifted his head, trying not to fidget. Trying not to hope.

“I’m sorry?”

She laughed softly, but it broke as she started to cough again.

He made himself stand up, ignoring the twist in his stomach and the wobbly feeling in his knees, so he could walk the two steps over to her and give her the box.

She almost smiled, that time. ”You are grounded, you know.”

He nodded.

“For a very long time.”

He nodded again.

“Go back to your room. I’ll call you down when dinner’s ready.”

He nodded a third time, though a bit more slowly that time.

“Go on, shoo.” She patted him gently on the arm. He took one step, and then she reached out and pulled him back in a proper hug. ”I love you, silly. But don’t do that again.”

He nodded yet again, though he smiled that time, and scurried off to his room.

Maybe he was a good turian too?

Just had to keep trying.


	8. "Remember Me" F!Shepard/Liara (grief)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by [emby](http://spiritofemby.tumblr.com) for an alphabet fic meme

Liara was the one who cultivated knowledge.  The one who had trained herself to notice every detail, recall every conversation, put together patterns no one else bothered to see.  The one who had written Shepard’s name in the stars, so she would never be forgotten.

_“As if I could ever forget you,” she’d whispered, sweet words against Catherine’s skin, soft fingers playing with Catherine’s hair.  ”As if anyone could ever forget you.”_

_She’d always been so fascinated by hair.  By how it felt between her fingers, how it smelled before they went to sleep, how it tickled her nose first thing in the morning._

That was something Catherine would remember.  But it wasn’t something for Shepard to say, not here, not now, so she tucked it quietly away, and lifted her head, and looked across the room, trying desperately not to count all the familiar faces that were not there, and never would be again.

“When an asari loves, she loves knowing she will, most likely, lose her beloved some day, and have to continue on in a world that no longer remembers the one she loved.”

She ducked her head again, looking down at her hands clasped in front of her stomach, feeling her eyes blink, dry and tired.  ”It was comforting, in fact, to think of her, two hundred years from now, still researching, still studying, still remembering, long after I was gone.

“We neither of us ever really expected it to happen the other way around.  I will not be here in another two hundred years to hold the echoes of her life in my heart.  But I will remember her, as best I can, for as long as I have left.”

_Just as she asked, that last moment, when we realized it had all gone wrong, and she was the one who had to say good-bye._


	9. "Quiet Me", F!Shepard/Ashley Williams

For a moment, on Horizon, Ashley had forgotten that Ja-

She’d forgotten Shepard was dead.  Had seen familiar eyes widen behind an unfamiliar helmet, relief and grief and something too fragile to name. But then she’d remembered.  And either Shepard was really dead, and that couldn’t be her, or Shepard had never been dead, and she’d left. She’d lied. She’d betrayed everything Ashley had thought they had.

So she swallowed Ashley down to the pit of her gut to coil and burn and cry, and Williams had yelled at the Cerberus agent in front of her.

And the Cerberus agent took it all, eyes still and hard and voice firm, and Williams didn’t know what to think, but she knew that couldn’t really be Shepard.

Not her Jane.

Couldn’t be.

Could it?

***

Mars was almost worse, because apparently everyone else agreed it was Shepard, but her Jane would never, could never; it still didn’t make sense, didn’t fit, the pieces of her story jagged and conflicting and painful.

They’d fit together perfectly, once.

Just once.

How could she still be so caught up in something that had been so brief, so fleeting.   _So warm, so perfect._

And now everything hurt, and it almost made sense, but the sense was worse than the nonsense had been, and she didn’t know what to do, or what to say, that might make it all line up again.

Just one moment.  That would be enough to know for sure.  To say good-bye.  Or maybe, just maybe, to start over again.

But Shepard’s voice was still smooth, her eyes firm, and Ashley couldn’t quite see if Jane was still in there, couldn’t quite tell what she wanted.

Couldn’t find the words to say what she wanted, either, though she could feel them, dragging heavy in the back of her throat.   _Maybe later, once we’re done, back on the ship, maybe, just a moment alone?_

***

“Goddamnit Ashley, you’re not allowed to quit on me, not when I still haven’t yelled at you properly for fucking walking away, and getting yourself beat up by a damn cyborg, you’re better than that and if you don’t,” Jane’s voice broke, harsh breathing and rough words, and Ashley tried to blink, tried to listen, but everything hurt, fire and darkness, and she couldn’t seem to make her throat work.

Instead she moved her hand, tried to reach out, tried to touch,  _there’s my Jane, I hoped you were still there, are you still here?_

She heard the breath beside her, an inward gasp, short and sharp.  And then she felt fingers against hers.  ”Shhh,” she managed softly, her thumb stroking against a hand she recognized, even after so many years.  

She heard what in a lesser woman might have been a sob, and managed to pry her eyelids apart enough to watch the blurry shape settle down beside her, to feel the brush of hair against her wrist as Jane bowed her head down above their hands.

“Shh,” Ashley whispered again, listening to both of them breathe.  Sometimes all you needed was quiet.  Just a breath.  Just enough.

The noise would start up again when it was ready.


	10. "Games and Strategies" EDI/Samantha Traynor

”Why do you pause like that?”  Traynor tilted her head, watching as EDI carefully lowered her hand back into her lap before lifting her head to look up at her instead of down at the board. 

“I do not understand, is it not proper protocol to consider before making a move?”

“Well, for organic brains.  But I’m quite sure you know every possible move and counter-move on the board before I’m done with my piece.”

“If all I wanted was to run simulations on strategies that would be true.” EDI nodded gracefully.  ”But I am studying how people play, not how chess pieces can be moved.”

“There are other games besides chess then, games of chance, cards, poker?” Traynor shrugged, leaning back in her chair.  ”Vega’s even been talking about setting up a table tennis game in the observation lounge.”

“Is chess not your favorite?”  If she’d been anyone besides EDI, Traynor would be wondering what, precisely, she meant by the lift at the end of that sentence, the tilt to her head and the steady gaze of her eyes.

 _If you were human I’d already have invited you to breakfast, let’s be honest here.  I’m a bit of an idiot.  Smart girl, pretty voice, pretty smile.  Even though you’re not a girl…_ “Well, um,” Traynor swallowed, realizing she’d been silent a bit longer than was normal.  ”I like all sorts of games.”

“Perhaps you could teach me some of them?”  EDI leaned forward, her voice soft and smooth.

_You do look like a lovely lady though.  And sound like one.  And you’re even learning to smile like one._

“You should be careful, someone might think you were flirting with me.”

“If you are only at might, apparently that is something else I need you to teach me.”

“You, what?”  Traynor blinked.  ”You want me to, flirt?”

“Only if you would like to, of course.”  She sounded, possibly, almost, shy?  ”I find I enjoy the idea of your presence.  The sound of your voice. The time we spend together takes up an unusually large percentage of my attention, considering the ease of our interactions.”

“Oh,” Traynor breathed out slowly.  That sounded suspiciously like the AI-equivalent to ‘ _I can’t stop thinking about you_ ’.  

Sam felt herself smiling, wondering if synthetic skin was warm like the real thing, or cool as polymer; if it would warm to the touch, given enough time.  ”That sounds delightful.  We should start our first lesson immediately.”


	11. "Nurse Me" Tali/F!Shepard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> drabble meme request by [emby](http://spiritofemby.tumblr.com) for [defira](http://defira85.tumblr.com)

“It’s just a cold, Tali.”

“But I’ve never seen your nose  _do that,_  and I didn’t know your hair could, or, I mean, your eyes are red, and not the cybernetic bits, but the skin and the part that’s usually white,” Tali trailed to a stop as Shepard started laughing, a wheezing aching sort of sound rather than her usual warm chuckle.

“Thanks for making me sound like some sort of vid-monster.  I promise, humans do this, it’s just a cold, I’m fine.”  She had to stop to blow her nose again, a honk and a wince and she threw the tissue into the box beside the couch.  ”Though you’d better not take off your mask, I’d sneeze all over you and it would be horrible for everyone.  Especially you.”

“Are you sure?”

Shepard’s smile was almost as creepy as her red eyes, but Tali was pretty sure it was supposed to be comforting.  ”Completely sure.”

“Can I get you anything?”

“Tea?”  Shepards eyes got wide, and she sniffled a little more, and held out her mug hopefully.  ”Chakwas has the good stuff.”

“Of course she does.”  Tali gently tugged the ceramic away from Shepard’s chapped fingers.  ”Chakwas always has the good stuff.  I’ll be right back.”


	12. Mask (Tali/F!Shepard)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the imagery for this one in my head was very vivid, three fingers tangled with five. such a pretty game, ME, isn't it?

Humans counted down from three.

It seemed odd; their math was base-10, they'd set up their science and technology on those ones and zeros.

Their very hands had all those extra digits, just to add up to ten, yet again.

Or maybe it was the fingers first? Gave you a view of the world that ought to be divisible by what you saw at the ends of your arms every day? That was a comparative anthropology project someone should be doing; science and math and the influence of the physical form on social and technological development.

Clearly she'd been spending too much time around Liara.

Who also had ten fingers.

_I wonder if that's part of the question, for her, how they can be the same, and yet so different?_

_The opposite of mine, we are so different ... how can we feel the same?_

But when they were ducked behind cover, and Shepard needed their attention, needed their help, _needs my help?_ , up went her hand, just a few fingers lifted ...

_3 ..._

_2 ..._

_1_

Maybe, three fingers would fit better between those five than she'd ever expected?

Or maybe it would be even worse than she feared.

She didn't like fear. Hadn't let it take hold during her Pilgrimage, against the geth. 

Anger was too bright, too strong, burned it all away.

But she didn't want to be angry.

Not anymore.

Shepard made her want to feel something else.

Hope.

Also an embarrassing tendency to giggle, but that always made her smile, and duck her head, as if she liked the sound.

She always looked right at Tali's face-plate too, no matter how long the conversation, when most people drifted away after too long without being able to meet someone's eyes.

_Always looks behind the mask._

Familiar steps hitting the plates around the corner, and Tali could feel the anxiety, her enviro-controls adjusting in response to her apparent physical stress, even as her hands clenched behind her back.

She made herself relax, shook her hands out, eased her arms back to her side.

Her fingers curled, and she took one last breath.

Time to leave cover.

Time to brave the consequences.

Time to tell Shepard how she felt.

_3, 2, 1 ..._


End file.
